As she received no farther news of Sir Philip, whether directly or
indirectly, his unfortunate lady began now to feel a sort of
consolation, even in those careless habits which had so often given her
pain. "He is so thoughtless," she repeated a hundred times a day to her
sister, "he never writes when things are going on smoothly; it is his
way: had any thing happened he would have informed us."
Lady Bothwell listened to her sister without attempting to console her.
Probably she might be of opinion, that even the worst intelligence
which could be received from Flanders might not be without some touch
of consolation; and that the Dowager Lady Forester, if so she was
doomed to be called, might have a source of happiness unknown to the
wife of the gayest and finest gentleman in Scotland. This conviction
became stronger as they learned from inquiries made at headquarters,
that Sir Philip was no longer with the army; though whether he had been
taken or slain in some of those skirmishes which were perpetually
occurring, and in which he loved to distinguish himself, or whether he
had, for some unknown reason or capricious change of mind, voluntarily
left the service, none of his countrymen in the camp of the Allies
could form even a conjecture. Meantime his creditors at home became
clamorous, entered into possession of big property, and threatened his
person, should he be rash enough to return to Scotland. These
additional disadvantages aggravated Lady Bothwell's displeasure against
the fugitive husband; while her sister saw nothing in any of them, save
what tended to increase her grief for the absence of him whom her
imagination now represented,--as it had before marriage,--gallant, gay,
and affectionate.
About this period there appeared in Edinburgh a man of singular
appearance and pretensions. He was commonly called the Paduan Doctor,
from having received his education at that famous university. He was
supposed to possess some rare receipts in medicine, with which, it was
affirmed, he had wrought remarkable cures. But though, on the one hand,
the physicians of Edinburgh termed him an empiric, there were many
persons, and among them some of the clergy, who, while they admitted
the truth of the cures and the force of his remedies, alleged that
Doctor Baptisti Damiotti made use of charms and unlawful arts in order
to obtain success in his practice. The resorting to him was even
solemnly preached against, as a seeking of health from idols, and a
trusting to the help which was to come from Egypt. But the protection
which the Paduan Doctor received from some friends of interest and
consequence, enabled him to set these imputations at defiance, and to
assume, even in the city of Edinburgh, famed as it was for abhorrence
of witches and necromancers, the dangerous character of an expounder of
futurity. It was at length rumoured, that for a certain gratification,
which, of course, was not an inconsiderable one, Doctor Baptisti
Damiotti could tell the fate of the absent, and even show his visitors
the personal form of their absent friends, and the action in which they
were engaged at the moment. This rumour came to the ears of Lady
Forester, who had reached that pitch of mental agony in which the
sufferer will do any thing, or endure any thing, that suspense may be
converted into certainty.
Gentle and timid in most cases, her state of mind made her equally
obstinate and reckless, and it was with no small surprise and alarm
that her sister, Lady Bothwell, heard her express a resolution to visit
this man of art, and learn from him the fate of her husband. Lady
Bothwell remonstrated on the improbability that such pretensions as
those of this foreigner could be founded on any thing but imposture.
"I care not," said the deserted wife, "what degree of ridicule I may
incur; if there be any one chance out of a hundred that I may obtain
some certainty of my husband's fate, I would not miss that chance for
whatever else the world can offer me."
Lady Bothwell next urged the unlawfulness of resorting to such sources
of forbidden knowledge.
"Sister," replied the sufferer, "he who is dying of thirst cannot
refrain from drinking poisoned water. She who suffers under suspense
must seek information, even were the powers which offer it unhallowed
and infernal. I go to learn my fate alone; and this very evening will I
know it: the sun that rises to-morrow shall find me, if not more happy,
at least more resigned."
"Sister," said Lady Bothwell, "if you are determined upon this wild
step, you shall not go alone. If this man be an impostor, you may be
too much agitated by your feelings to detect his villany. If, which I
cannot believe, there be any truth in what he pretends, you shall not
be exposed alone to a communication of so extraordinary a nature. I
will go with you, if indeed you determine to go. But yet reconsider
your project, and renounce inquiries which cannot be prosecuted without
guilt, and perhaps without danger."
Lady Forester threw herself into her sister's arms, and, clasping her
to her bosom, thanked her a hundred times for the offer of her company;
while she declined with a melancholy gesture the friendly advice with
which it was accompanied.
When the hour of twilight arrived,--which was the period when the
Paduan Doctor was understood to receive the visits of those who came to
consult with him,--the two ladies left their apartments in the
Canongate of Edinburgh, having their dress arranged like that of women
of an inferior description, and their plaids disposed around their
faces as they were worn by the same class; for, in those days of
aristocracy, the quality of the wearer was generally indicated by the
manner in which her plaid was disposed, as well as by the fineness of
its texture. It was Lady Bothwell who had suggested this species of
disguise, partly to avoid observation as they should go to the
conjuror's house, and partly in order to make trial of his penetration,
by appearing before him in a feigned character. Lady Forester's
servant, of tried fidelity, had been employed by her to propitiate the
Doctor by a suitable fee, and a story intimating that a soldier's wife
desired to know the fate of her husband; a subject upon which, in all
probability, the sage was very frequently consulted.
To the last moment, when the palace clock struck eight, Lady Bothwell
earnestly watched her sister, in hopes that she might retreat from, her
rash undertaking; but as mildness, and even timidity, is capable at
times of vehement and fixed purposes, she found Lady Forester
resolutely unmoved and determined when the moment of departure arrived.
Ill satisfied with the expedition, but determined not to leave her
sister at such a crisis, Lady Bothwell accompanied Lady Forester
through more than one obscure street and lane, the servant walking
before, and acting as their guide. At length he suddenly turned into a
narrow court, and knocked at an arched door, which seemed to belong to
a building of some antiquity. It opened, though no one appeared to act
as porter; and the servant, stepping aside from the entrance, motioned
the ladies to enter. They had no sooner done so, than it shut, and
excluded their guide. The two ladies found themselves in a small
vestibule, illuminated by a dim lamp, and having, when the door was
closed, no communication with the external light or air. The door of an
inner apartment, partly open, was at the farther side of the vestibule.
"We must not hesitate now, Jemima," said Lady Bothwell, and walked
forwards into the inner room, where, surrounded by books, maps,
philosophical utensils, and other implements of peculiar shape and
appearance, they found the man of art.
There was nothing very peculiar in the Italian's appearance. He had the
dark complexion and marked features of his country, seemed about fifty
years old, and was handsomely, but plainly, dressed in a full suit of
black clothes, which was then the universal costume of the medical
profession. Large wax-lights, in silver sconces, illuminated the
apartment, which was reasonably furnished. He rose as the ladies
entered; and, not-withstanding the inferiority of their dress, received
them with the marked respect due to their quality, and which foreigners
are usually punctilious in rendering to those to whom such honours are
due.
Lady Bothwell endeavoured to maintain her proposed incognito; and, as
the Doctor ushered them to the upper end of the room, made a motion
declining his courtesy, as unfitted for their condition. "We are poor
people, sir," she said; "only my sister's distress has brought us to
consult your worship whether--"
He smiled as he interrupted her--"I am aware, madam, of your sister's
distress, and its cause; I am aware, also, that I am honoured with a
visit from two ladies of the highest consideration--Lady Bothwell and
Lady Forester. If I could not distinguish them from the class of
society which their present dress would indicate, there would be small
possibility of my being able to gratify them by giving the information
which they come to seek."
"I can easily understand," said Lady Bothwell----
"Pardon my boldness to interrupt you, milady," cried the Italian; "your
ladyship was about to say, that you could easily understand that I had
got possession of your names by means of your domestic. But in thinking
so, you do injustice to the fidelity of your servant, and, I may add,
to the skill of one who is also not less your humble servant--Baptisti
Damiotti."
"I have no intention to do either, sir," said Lady Bothwell,
maintaining a tone of composure, though somewhat surprised, "but the
situation is something new to me. If you know who we are, you also
know, sir, what brought us here."
"Curiosity to know the fate of a Scottish gentleman of rank, now, or
lately upon the Continent," answered the seer; "his name is Il
Cavaliero Philippo Forester; a gentleman who has the honour to be
husband to this lady, and, with your ladyship's permission for using
plain language, the misfortune not to value as it deserves that
inestimable advantage."